


Lightning Strike

by nitsnatsnoc



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Letters, Love Letters, M/M, Power Outage, Snow, Songfic, Spice, dream sends one back, george sends dream a letter, it escalates from there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29508198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitsnatsnoc/pseuds/nitsnatsnoc
Summary: George is caught in a blizzard and has a power outage. Since he can't call or text Dream, he decides to write him a letter instead. To his surprise, Dream writes one back. Loosely based on the song, "The Lightning Strike" by Snow Patrol.Tags and rating will be updated as needed.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Welcome to my first ever DNF fanfic, I hope you all like it. Let me know what you think in the comments and please leave kudos!! Please ask me before reposting to other platforms, and always credit me as the author. Thank you, and enjoy :)

“You’re such an idiot, George!” A tea-kettle wheeze erupted from Dream’s throat. “You tried to make a pickaxe… with planks and sticks switched!”

George could practically hear the smirk on his face, pointedly looking away from the camera to hide his embarrassment. The stream had been going for hours now, and the chat had been spamming memes the whole time, which of course Dream had only encouraged. “Shut up, Dream. It’s not like you’re any smarter, Mr. Cobblestone Crafting Table.”

“It was one time!”

“You’re never going to live it down,” said George in a tone much too gleeful for Dream’s liking.

As they traded insults, the soft lights in George’s room flickered, fleeting shadows dancing on the wall like insects. The howling storm outside pounded on the window, causing him to jump off his chair in fright. Dream let out another wheeze that shook his whole body, ribs hurting from the laugh. That one was definitely going to get clipped.

“Aw, Georgie, are you scared of a little wind?” he teased, giggling. “That’s so cute.”

His cheeks flushed as he climbed back in his chair, but his face grew stoic. An alert popped up on his phone in flashing red, and George’s eyes darkened with worry. He addressed the stream, “Thank you so much for being here everyone, bye-bye!” Chat flooding with questions, he abruptly ended. 

“George, what the hell was that?” asked Dream incredulously.

“I’m going to lose power soon,” George replied, “because of the storm. I just got a severe weather warning, and the wind’s knocked down a lot of power lines.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“I won’t be able to stream or anything for a while.”

“Okay. Stay safe, George.” Forced and stilted, the words came out of Dream’s mouth full of frustration. “Call me when you get power again.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I’ll see you when this is over then, I guess.”

George had already pressed the button to hang up before Dream could respond. He leaned back, running his hands through his hair. The blizzard outside swirled as he stared out the window, a cold draft sweeping through his hoodie and raising goosebumps on his arms. Lights continuing to flicker, George made his way into the kitchen, grabbing a candle and matches from the shelf. The room felt as if it was swaying, and he placed a hand on the wall for a moment to steady himself.

He had just lit the flame when the lights shut off completely, fizzling out into darkness, the single candle illuminating the room with a gentle glow. Glancing up uneasily, George carried the light to his bedroom and fished paper out of his desk. It crinkled noisily as he removed it from the drawer, untouched for some time, and the musty scent of desk drawers filled his nose. Placing it on the desktop, George stared at the blank page. Why was he writing on paper? He hadn’t written anything in ages.

He just needed to clear his head from everything happening, tell someone else what he was feeling. That was it. George knew he had never been particularly good at expressing his emotions. Maybe writing them down would help a bit. As the snow fell and wind screamed in the street, he picked up a pen and began to write.

_Dear Dream,_

_~~You drive me crazy~~. This storm drives me crazy. You’re the only one I know willing to listen to me rant. Did you know that the snow isn’t actually white once it’s on the ground? It’s grey, black, dirty. The roads here are awful, they fill the snow with pollution and turn it nasty._

_~~I miss you~~ _ _Having no power means I can’t text or call you. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t wake up to one of your messages yelling at me to get on Minecraft. Now I don’t want to sleep, just to keep our streaks. ~~It makes me happy~~ It’s tradition at this point._

_I wish I could come visit America. ~~I want to see your face~~ It sounds fun in Florida. Do you Americans get snow? I bet at least the West Coast does. Have you ever seen snow, Dream? Or built a snowman? Or had a snowball fight? Maybe you should come to the U.K. instead. ~~We can play in the snow together~~ Snowstorms alone aren’t as fun as I thought they’d be._

_Ice skating would be cool. I’ve gone plenty of times but it’s always better with someone else there to laugh when you fall down. I don’t actually know if you have ice rinks in Florida. If not, you’re missing out. ~~We could hold hands~~ We could stick together so we don’t trip and faceplant. Oh, and sledding! We could have sled races down the hills like when we were children. Do you Americans do that too? We could drink hot cocoa and ~~share one~~ ~~walk on the pier~~ try to catch snowflakes on our tongues. _

_How is your cat, Patches? I don’t think she would like snow, it would be too cold for her. She might try and eat it, cats are weird like that. Maybe you could put her in a little coat. Do they make coats for cats? I feel like that would be adorable. Send me a picture of her in a coat if possible. ~~Send me a picture of you, too.~~_

_You make me lonely, Dream. You make me wish ~~you were here~~ I could share memories like that with someone. You make me wish for things I know are impossible. It’s not fair the way I hurt so much over ~~you~~ things you don’t know. But at the same time, you keep me sane. You keep me grounded. ~~Why is everything so confusing?~~_

_It all feels so overwhelming, the blinding light of the snow and the pitch-black darkness in my room and the wails and screeches of the storm and ~~you~~ why does everything point back to you. It’s like ~~I can’t get you out of my head~~ torture. I want it all to stop. I want to stop thinking about you and wishing you could share these moments with me. I want to stop imagining ~~your face as~~ you running through the airport to find me and bury me in a hug. I want to stop all these feelings that I’ve never had to deal with before._

_Please don’t try and decipher the crossed-out sentences. They’re crossed out for a reason. I probably won’t even send this letter. I just needed to vent._

_\-- George_

Folding his paper in half and then in quarters, George set it on the desk gingerly. Sighing, he gazed out the window once more at the falling crystals of snow, daring him to mail it. He debated for a moment before sealing it in an envelope and pressing a stamp gently to it, scribbling Dream’s address in a messy scrawl. Dream was totally going to give him shit for this when his power returned.

George sent the letter before he could regret it.

. . .

_Dear George,_

_What are you hiding that you’ve crossed out?_

_No matter, you drive me crazy too. **What if this storm ends, and I don’t see you as you are now ever again?** You’re bold, you’re… expressive. You’ve never sent me anything like that before. ~~I like it.~~ There’s so much to process here._

_We don’t get snow in Florida, so I don’t know how it turns color, I’ve never had a snowball fight or built a snowman, I’ve never ~~played in the snow with someone~~ caught snowflakes on my tongue. I think that would be fun, too. _

_I didn’t know you like seeing my messages when you wake up, it was never a conscious decision to send them. ~~I just miss you~~ Let’s stay up together and see who falls asleep first. I bet $5 it’ll be you, considering you sleep half the day anyway. You’re like a fucking cat, George, I swear. It’s strange._

_Speaking of, Patches is fine. She’d love to be out in the snow, but it’s Florida and in any case she’d freeze to death. I’ll try and wrangle her into a coat to show you. I’m not sending you a picture of me. Sorry._

_I’d like to go ice skating with you. I will warn you, I’ve taken lessons, so get ready to have your ass handed to you! Do you have frozen lakes in England? My dream is to skate on one of those. ~~I’ll hold your hand if you want~~ We should definitely skate together, so you don’t fall and break something. ~~Sharing a hot cocoa would be nice~~ Hot cocoa is my favorite! Are there good places where you live? If not, I might have to drag you down to Florida so you can experience the coffee shop on my street._

_Why did you cross out so much? It’s like you’re hiding, even when you claim to be expressing yourself. Please, show me the real George. I wish you were here. I wish I could stop thinking about you. I wish I run up and hug you at the airport. I wish you would be honest and write the things you crossed out._

_I’ll admit, George, getting a letter from you was unexpected. After you hung up the other day, I thought you were mad at me. I hate it, George, not being able to talk to you whenever I want to. You’re the only one who listens to me, too._

_You know what would be fun? If you came to Florida, and we went to Disney World and the beach and drove for hours in the middle of the country. Do you like to drive, George? I love it, with the wind in my face and music blaring from the speakers. We could drive in the middle of the night and ~~look at the stars~~ sing along together. The moon shines so bright… ~~it reminds me of your face~~ I love to stare up at it and forget my problems._

_My favorite is walking on the beach in bare feet, where there are no streetlamps and the only light comes from the stars and moon, when the rushing tides are the only sound, when I can spin and run on the sand, carefree, and escape for a moment. I’d love to walk with you on the beach sometime. I’d love to share these memories with you._

_Why don’t you call me by my real name, George? It’s like you’re writing to my persona instead of me. ~~I miss your voice calling me Clay.~~_

_I need to stop writing before I say something I regret._

_Enjoy the picture of Patches, she posed especially for you!_

_\-- Clay_

George held the letter in trembling hands, staring in shock as he finished reading it. This was way too much to absorb. He blamed his shaking on the weather, but he knew that wasn’t the reason. Dream had been so forward with his words, overwhelmingly so. _What if this storm ends, and I don’t see you as you are now ever again?_ Was he really so different in his letters than out loud?

He couldn’t get that one line out of his head, it was so unlike the rest of Dream’s writing. George tore his eyes away from the paper. It was just a distraction, Dream purposefully trying to get a rise out of him. It had to be. Dream didn’t mean any of it, surely.

Unfolding the attached picture, George smiled warmly at Patches in an oversized coat, her nose poking up while the rest of her drowned in the fabric. Dream had clearly bribed her with a treat; she looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. On the bottom, written in blue pen, was, “Patches sends her love.” He ripped a piece of tape off from the dispenser and stuck the photograph on the wall above his desk.

It had been a week since he sent his letter, and ice still smothered the roads like a shimmering blanket, but it was beginning to clear. George was almost out of candles to burn. To his surprise, hours after receiving Dream’s letter, the lights began to slowly flicker back on, ending the darkness that had plagued George for days. The quiet hum of the refrigerator resumed, and the digital clock flashed 12:00. Immediately, he opened his messages.

**_DREAMMMMMMM THE POWER IS BACK!!!!_ **

sent, 6:04 p.m.

Grinning like a fool, he waited as Dream typed back. They fell into their routines again, teasing and laughing and blushing though they’d never admit it, but neither mentioned the letters.

_Dear ~~Dream~~ Clay,_

_I’ll admit that your last letter confused me. I can’t tell what your intentions were and I’m not sure I want to. What kind of game do you think you’re playing with those song lyrics? I can quote them back at you: **The perfect halo of gold hair and lightning sets you off against the planet’s last dance.**_ _Why that song, Dream?_

_You said you liked me being bold and expressive, but I’m not sure if I like that you like it. ~~It scares me~~ It makes me uncomfortable to be vulnerable like that. And if anything, you were bolder in your letter._

_I am not a cat, by the way. How dare you._

_There are frozen lakes in England, but I’ve never been. We should go sometime ~~together.~~ As for the hot cocoa, there are a couple good places by the ocean. We could go walk on the beach like you said, it sounds so peaceful and calming. ~~You’re not allowed to wax poetic~~ Why all the poetry? You never struck me as a writer, Dream._

_As for what I’ve crossed out and why I didn’t use your name, it’s a two-way street, Clay. You’re upset with me for not showing you every side of myself when you continue to cross out things too, censoring yourself but not allowing me to do the same. I specifically told you not to read the crossed-out lines. This isn’t a game, Clay. Don’t treat it like one._

_I’m tired, Dream, but I’m happy my power returned. I missed you too. We should definitely go for a drive sometime, ~~just the two of us.~~ We can roll down the windows and feel the wind and play music as loud as we want. _

_I should go to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow. I don’t even know why I’m still writing letters when I can talk to you anytime again._

_\-- George_


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and George have a falling out, and of course Sapnap is there to help.

_Dear George,_

_You sound upset with me. Why? If you want me to back off, I will. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It won’t happen again. ~~It’s never a game to me I chose that song because it reminds me of you I’m sorry I read the crossed-out lines You’re always so touchy Why can’t you say what you mean Why can’t I wax poetic if I want to?~~ See you tomorrow, George._

_\-- Dream_

He pretended not to read the letter when it arrived during stream, but he could hear Dream’s silent judgement, tension hanging in the air like thick fog. He could hear the sharp intake of breath once Dream recognized the rustling of a letter unfolding, and he witnessed how Dream’s character froze on-screen, standing perfectly still and gazing intently at a stone brick wall. George wished he could see Dream’s face, gauge his reaction, anything, but the green and white profile picture simply stared back at him, mocking.

“George, Dream, guys,” Bad tried, “what’s going on? You haven’t said a word to each other since we started the stream!”

“Yeah, Dream, you’re acting like George rejected you or something,” Sapnap teased. George’s heart beat slightly quicker, blood rushing in his ears at the remark. _It’s just a joke, lighten up,_ he told himself. _You’re just friends, anyway, how could you reject him?_

When Dream spoke, his words came out cold, serious, under the thin guise of sarcasm. “He did reject me, Sapnap. He’s always playing games with my heart.” His tone cut like a knife, and George prayed that the others didn’t pick up on it like he did.

Sapnap laughed, but it was cautious, forced, and George could tell. Thankfully, he played it off, saying, “I knew he was a heartbreaker, man. I’m telling you, you’re better off without him!” He let out a good-natured chuckle, as if to remind everyone it was just a joke. George had never been so grateful for that idiot in his life.

As Bad and Sapnap continued to talk, George contemplated the situation. The thing was that George didn’t understand why Dream was now upset with him. It wasn’t like he had been terribly dismissive in his last letter… had he? _What kind of game do you think you’re playing? I specifically told you not to read the crossed-out lines. I don’t even know why I’m still writing letters._ The words flooded back to him, swirling around George’s head. He had sounded angry, panicked, uncomfortable. Shit. He needed to fix this.

Without really thinking, George wrote hastily, clicking to send it to Dream. He watched in anticipation as the donation popped up on stream, and Dream read it out loud.

“ **Just for a minute, the silver forked sky lit you up like a star that I will follow.** ” The silence dragged for what felt like hours as Dream processed the message. “George, why the fuck would you donate that?”

If his tone had been cold before, then this one was ice. Chills crept up George’s spine, not good ones, but the ones that crawl across your skin when you watch a horror movie and know something bad is about to happen. “That’s not funny. You know exactly what those words mean to us.” His voice was barely audible, but it was so venomous that George could hear every word.

“I thought it would show you I’m not upset,” protested George meekly, his voice also lowered to almost a whisper.

“I’m ending the stream.”

Dream left the VC, and George sat still in shock. Bad left as well with a quick and quiet goodbye, knowing George would want to be alone, but Sapnap remained.

“So,” he began, “what the hell just happened, man?” His tone was incredulous, and he obviously wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so George gave in. He told Sapnap everything, from the beginning of the letters to the song lyrics to the lines that were more and more consistently blurred to Dream’s breakdown a few minutes ago. He told Sapnap about the confusion he felt while reading Dream’s letter, and the elation and happiness he felt, too. He told Sapnap about the crossed-out sentences that said more than he’d ever be brave enough to. He waited for a response to the mess of a story he’d just spilled to his best friend, hands shaking as he fought to control them.

Sapnap sighed, a long suffering sigh that indicated he’d had enough of George’s bullshit. “You know, I really thought you guys were a thing already and you just hadn’t told me, and this was some kind of shitty breakup, but it’s so much worse. You need to stop dancing around your feelings, goddammit!”

“I don’t have feelings for Dream, Sapnap,” George defended instantly. “We’re just friends.”

A loud laugh of disbelief erupted from Sapnap. “You’re trying to tell me you’re not head over heels for that man? Good luck.”

“I just want to know how to make it up to him, _Sappitus._ ” His voice filled with annoyance, George continued, “Not in a weird way, in a friend way!”

“Then just talk to him,” Sapnap said. “Preferably not on a livestream in front of thousands of people, referencing a song that apparently has some kind of gay-but-not-quite special meaning for you two. At least, that’s what I would do.”

“Sap, you’re surprisingly good at giving advice when I filter through all the gay jokes.”

“I’m the official, designated third wheel to you guys, I might as well own up to it, right?”

_Dear Clay,_

_I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me. I was rude and abrasive in my last letter and I apologize. I want to write out here everything I’ve been too scared to, everything I’ve crossed out._

_You drive me crazy. I miss you. You make me happy. I want to see your face. We can play in the snow together. We can hold hands as we walk on the pier together. I wish you were here. I hurt so much over you. I can’t get you out of my head. I keep imagining your face. I want to go for a drive, just the two of us. All of my favorite memories are the ones I’ve made with you, Clay._

_I’m being vulnerable like you asked me to be. It scares me. I want to crumple this paper into a ball and throw it across the room, but I’m not going to. I’ve been scared of letting people close to me for too long._

_Sapnap gives good advice. You should definitely go to him when you need help._

_You asked me why I’m so touchy. You asked me why I can’t ever say what I mean. Here’s me saying what I mean: I’m not uncomfortable. I don’t care if you’re playing a game. Just send me a letter back. I miss hearing from you._

_Patches is cute. I put the picture you sent me of her on the wall above my desk, I hope she’s happy knowing that._

_\-- George_

_Dear George,_

_You have no idea what you do to me…_

_You want to play games with my heart, George? Go ahead. I’ll tell you everything I was too scared to say as well. I like you being bold and expressive. I miss you. I’ll hold your hand if you want. Sharing a hot cocoa would be nice. We could drive in the middle of the night and look at the stars. The moon shines so bright, it reminds me of your face. I miss your voice calling me Clay._

_It’s never a game to me. I chose that song because it reminds me of you. I can’t get you out of my head either… why is it so hard to be close to you? You make me overthink everything I do and say, I just want to impress you every chance I get. That storm brought out a side of you I’ve never seen before, and I like it, George, I like it a lot. We always run from our feelings, George, why is it so difficult? Why can’t we just talk, ever?_

_**Now it’s found us like I have found you, I don’t want to run. Just overwhelm me.** _

_I’m telling you what I mean as well. Take it any way you feel like._

_\-- Clay_

Sapnap must have been becoming accustomed to brown-haired British men calling him at 4 in the morning, begging for advice, George mused, since it seemed to be a semi-regular occurrence as of late. Dream had barely been speaking in VC’s, just enough to appease the stream, but leaving George frustrated and wanting for his attention.

“I just don’t get it, Sapnap!” he fumed as the other man calmly snacked on chips. “Why would he send that letter and still say nothing to me?” George buried his head in his hands, exasperated.

“Why does Dream do anything, dude? Isn’t it obvious that he wants you to come running back to him? He’s too high and mighty to do anything himself, it would ruin the image he has of himself.”

“I’m not a damsel in distress, Sapnap.”

“I don’t know, George, you seem pretty ‘in distress…’” George’s angered yell was drowned out by Sapnap’s cackling. Pouting, George pressed the mute button on the call, listening to the other’s pleas of forgiveness. He returned to the VC, smirking at Sapnap.

“I’ll admit, putting up with your jokes was worth it to hear you groveling to me.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” Sapnap sighed, and George heard him lean away from the microphone. “Dream’s so stubborn, good luck with getting him to make any sort of first move.”

“If he can be stubborn, then so can I,” determined George.

“Alright, actually, I know exactly what to do. He won’t show it, George, but you totally have him wrapped around your finger. Dream is so fucking in love with you, man, even if he refuses to acknowledge it as anything more than a joke.”

“Sapnap, for the last time, we are not together. We are friends.”

“Give it time. I bet that statement will be false within a month.”

“Shut up.”

_Dear Clay,_

_You ask why we don’t talk, and then ignore me for a week. No VC, no texts, nothing other than a vague letter. How is that talking, Dream? You’re always contradicting yourself, Clay, dancing around the subject while whispering pretty words that you think makes everything better._

_**What if this storm ends? And leaves us nothing except a memory, a distant echo.** What then, Clay? _

_Prove to me it’s not a game. Prove to me you mean what you say. I’ll wait as long as I have to._

_\-- George_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave comments and kudos!! Thanks for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Don't forget to leave kudos and comments :)


End file.
